Hard Choices
by TVJunkie1013
Summary: HawkeyeBJ pairing. SLASH! Hawkeye needs to make a choice. Listen to his heart and his head or his libido.


**Title**: Hard Choices  
**Author**: Lisa M  
**Pairing**: BJ/Hawkeye  
**Rating**: Sergeant - some bad words  
**Disclaimer**: Nope, don't own anything. Don't sue … no money.  
**Archive**: Anywhere, just let me know.  
**Feedback**: Would be appreciated - good or bad.  
**Spoilers**: None.  
**Summary**: Hawkeye has to make a tough decision - follow his head and heart … or his libido.

**A/N**: I wanted to write something different for the boys … and this is the result.

* * *

"Hey." 

"Hey, yourself, tall, dark and mustached."

"I've been thinking," BJ says, dropping his lab coat on his cot and taking a seat on mine. "And wanted to talk to you about something."

"Okay," I reply and toss the letter I was reading on the still table. There is an odd tone to BJ's voice and it piques my curiosity. "What's is it?"

"This."

BJ leans in and brushes his lips over mine. His hand slips into my hair and I respond automatically. My mouth softens against my friend's; pulse quickening as our kiss deepens. The air in the Swamp begins to warm and I can feel beads of sweat forming at the base of my spine. BJ's skilled lips and tongue work my mouth with absolute precision. Within a matter of moments, I'm panting for air, but when I feel BJ's fingers tugging at the hem of my shirt, I freeze. Placing my palms on his chest, I push gently, forcing myself to break away.

"Beej," I say and inhale deeply, trying, in vain, to calm myself. A large lump begins to form in my throat and I swallow roughly against it. "Don't."

BJ chuckles softly and shakes his head. He moves forward again and our lips connect briefly, but I turn my head to the side, ending the kiss almost as quickly as it starts.

"No," the single word rattles hollowly from my throat as I shove my friend, forcing him away this time. BJ's eyes pop open. He loses his balance and tumbles backward off the cot. He lands on the floor with a dull thud. Moments later, he sits quickly, turning his angry gaze to me.

"What the hell is the matter with you?"

"I don't want to do this," my stomach clenches and I almost retch as the blatant lie slides from my lips. "We can't do this, Beej. I can't. I won't."

"What," furious, BJ's voice rises an entire octave. It stabs through me like broken glass. "Are you kidding me?"

"No, I'm not kidding," I try to sound convincing, but it's difficult. The series of untruths rolling off my tongue are making me gag on each word I say. I stand, averting my eyes - BJ can always read my eyes - and fix myself a drink.

"After everything? The touches, the glances, the slick double talk and thinly veiled sexual innuendos you've been throwing in my direction every chance you've had?" BJ's words are clipped and quick. He stands, joining me near the still table and leans against it - one hand on the wood the other on his hip. His face is crimson with anger - the shade becoming deeper and deeper as he speaks. "Are you telling me all that means absolutely nothing?"

I don't want to lie to him again - not to him. I can only shrug. In response to my non-response, BJ reaches out and slaps the martini glass from my hand. It flies through the small space, smashes into the stove and shatters into a million glittering pieces. The sound echoes crisply throughout the Swamp.

"You're an asshole!" BJ shouts and shoves me onto my cot. He jabs his finger at me angrily. "And a goddamn liar."

"Beej."

"Don't you ever call me that again," he threatens and I cringe at the sound of his voice.

Somehow, I'm able to gather my nerve and continue speaking. "Would you at least give me a chance to explain?" I tentatively reach out and place my hand on BJ's forearm.

"I don't want to hear it," the younger man shakes off my hand as if it's covered with poison. "I don't need to hear any explanation you have because I understand completely."

"No, you don't."

"Yes," BJ hisses out between clenched teeth. "I do." He bends forward, towering over me, and places his hands on my shoulders, pinning me to the cot. His eyes burn with a ferocity that's downright scary. "It's all a game to you. You send me all these signals - in the things you say and do. You push and push and push. Then, when I finally give in and react, you backtrack. You shrug in that 'aw shucks' way of yours so that you don't have to feel bad, or feel anything, about the things that you do." He pauses, his expression changing from anger to disapproval. "Then again, I've seen you do this to so many nurses, so many different times, you'd think I'd be smart enough to see through all your bullshit."

"You're wrong."

"Oh? Am I really?"

"Yes, you are."

"Fine," he snaps and releases me, then backs away. He walks over to the door and leans against the frame, blue eyes fixed on mine. After making a sweeping gesture with his arms, he crosses them tightly - defensively - over his chest. "Tell me how I'm wrong, Hawkeye. Explain to me how I've managed to misinterpret everything you've been doing." BJ sighs heavily in frustration. "Make me understand why you were so willing to …"

BJ's words trail off. His eyes quickly drop to the floor, but not before I see them brimming with unshed tears. He rakes his knuckles angrily across his face, brushing away the salty drops before any can fall. When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet - filled with sadness.

"God, that's it."

"Beej," I begin, but he cuts me off.

"No, don't say anything. I think I figured things out," he wipes his palms across his eyes and raises them to meet mine. "You don't want me because I'm not him."

"Him?" I try to make myself sound as if I'm confused, but I know who BJ means by 'him' - and that he knows it too.

"Trapper. It's because I'm not Trapper, isn't it?" His words drip with jealousy.

"No," I snap too quickly, too harshly, and backtrack. There's a dull ache beginning to pulse at my temples. I place my fingertips on both sides of my head and try to massage away the pain. "No … and yes."

"Well, that answer certainly makes me feel better," he says sharply.

"I'm sorry." I swing my legs over the side of my bed and sit. "I guess I should be more clear."

"I'd say so." He drags himself over to his cot and drops down onto it.

Reaching to my right, I grasp the glass cylinder filled with gin. With a sigh, I raise it to my lips and take a long slow drink of the burning alcohol, allowing it to flow down my throat. Soothing me. 'Liquid courage', I guess you could say. My nerves begin to settle and I see the words beginning to form in my head.

"BJ, when Trapper was here things were so different than they are now. We were crazy. We chased nurses together, and when that didn't work out, we settled for the next best available body, which, most of the time, turned out to be each other. Back then I wasn't worried about people's feelings. I cared about me, about what I was getting out of a situation. Trapper and I really didn't think past any particular moment we were in. There weren't any future plans. I was completely unconcerned about the ramifications of my actions, or his, when it came to our lives outside of Korea. I never thought twice about how our situation here might affect his wife and daughters back there."

"That doesn't really sound like the 'Hawkeye' I know."

"Ah, yes. And there's the rub," I say with a small smirk and take another drink of lighter fluid gin. "When I was with Trapper that is what Hawkeye Pierce was like. A womanizing pig. But I need to be fair. I can't place any blame on Trapper for the way that I was around him. He didn't force me to do anything. I'm a grown man. I knew that some of the decisions I was making, a lot of the things I was doing were wrong. I chose to do them anyway. Trapper just made it easier for me to justify being a jerk. And I'm not saying he was a jerk, but when your best friend is standing by your side doing the exact same things that you're doing, well it gets easier and easier to put your morals on the shelf. To look the other way when you see yourself and what you've become reflected in a mirror. Back then, it was all about me - self-satisfaction - and it didn't matter whether I was with a nurse or with Trapper."

"Did you love him?"

"Of course I did, but not in a 'let's go pick out china patterns' way." BJ chuckles softly in response and I feel my heart lift a little. "He was a good friend to me, BJ. We helped each other get through some really tough times. But you? You're …" I find that I can't finish my sentence and turn my gaze to the ground in front of me.

"I'm what, Hawkeye?"

"You're very different from … from Trapper." I hate the way I'm stammering. It reminds me when I was much younger. The way I used to talk to the girls I liked. Unsure. Unsteady. "You are a good man, an honest man. You make me want to be a better person. And I am, when I'm with you. I'm a better friend, a more skilled surgeon, a kinder soul. There's this purity about you, even after all this time, that draws me to you in a way I can't explain."

"I'm not pure, Hawk. You know that. I've made my share of mistakes. Carrie. Aggie. How is that any different from some of the things you've done? I'm an adulterer, for Chrissakes! That's a biggie, you know."

"Don' t you get it? When you slipped with Donovan - only once - the guilt you felt was overpowering. I almost felt like I needed to apologize to somebody … and I didn't even do anything with anyone. And then Aggie. You never even kissed her, but you were devastated over the fact that you'd just thought about it. Before I met you, I never thought about hurting people when I jumped into the sack with them or what anyone thought afterwards. You nearly killed yourself with guilt over two situations that, in reality, were not that big of a deal. Peg would've never even known about either one, unless you told her. I didn't think about anything beyond the moment I was in at the time. That's the difference."

"You make it sound as if you were some sort of monster."

"Maybe I was. I took advantage of a lot of people for my own …," I pause and inhaling deeply. "I'm not going to do that to you. As much as I'd love to - and, God you have no idea how much I'd love to - I can't."

"Hawk, I want …"

Before BJ can finish his sentence, I cut him off with a wave of my hand.

"Let me stop you right there." Standing, I cross the space that separates us in three small steps and sit down next to him. I slide my hands over his cheeks and into his hair. "Do you know how many times I've thought about this?" I sigh deeply and pull our foreheads together. The feel of his skin against mine causes goose bumps to sprout all over my body, but I force myself to ignore the sensation. "About being with you? Kissing you? God, having sex with you?"

"No."

"Well, it's been a lot. And there was a time when I would've jumped at the chance at jumping you. But now, even though every inch of my body is aching for you," I say, reluctantly dropping my hands and pull away from him. My eyes fall to the floor. "I can't do it. I respect you too much. I respect Peg and what you have with her. And Erin. I'm not going to allow myself to be the one thing that could possibly destroy all you have. And it could, Beej. It could destroy everything. If we got caught, and were discharged 'blue' because of it, your career would be ruined. Your marriage would most likely be ruined. And our friendship, too. All because of me."

A comfortable silence fills the room. BJ and I sit with each other for what feels like an eternity - each lost in his own thoughts. I feel like I should say something, but really, what else was there to say? I shift slightly and try to stand, but BJ reaches out and places his hand over mine. He weaves his fingers in between mine.

"Hawkeye?"

"Yeah," I turn my head and our eyes meet.

"You're an honorable man."

"Don't remind me," I reply with a smirk. "You have no idea how disappointing it is to be honorable."

"Yes," he agrees and pulls me tightly against his side. I feel his lips feather through my hair. "I do."

**The End**


End file.
